


sweet nothings are screamed not spoken

by AdmirableMonster (Mertiya)



Series: Elves in Pon Farr [3]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, But They're Both Doing Their Best, Come Eating, Dubious Consent, Fuck Or Die, Light BDSM, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multiple Orgasms, Oaths & Vows, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post Losgar, She knows what she did, Sibling Incest, Unhealthy Relationships, Weird Elf Pon Farr, daphnerunning is a bad influence, maglor you should know better, the sad elf boys just don't catch a break
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:28:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28197669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mertiya/pseuds/AdmirableMonster
Summary: Maitimo's entire world has essentially fallen apart.  The last thing he needs is his little brother unexpectedly going into heat--his first heat.  But since when has the universe cared what Maitimo needs?
Relationships: Maedhros | Maitimo/Maglor | Makalaurë
Series: Elves in Pon Farr [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2070606
Comments: 14
Kudos: 50





	sweet nothings are screamed not spoken

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [When the Great Lights Go Out](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28194252) by [daphnerunning](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daphnerunning/pseuds/daphnerunning). 



> ahaha ha ha 
> 
> my hand slipped?
> 
> title from "pray" by The Amazing Devil

Maitimo looked down at his hands.They looked different, in the dim starlight that filtered into the tent.Shadows pooled in their depths, and, though he had sunk them in the snow and scrubbed them viciously, he thought he could still see the blood.Who _was_ he, now?Who were any of them?Everything since the moment he had walked down the stairs and seen Finwë canted against the lintel of the door at Formenos seemed like one long fever dream.

He heard the sound of footsteps crunching in the snow outside, and then Makalaurë entered the tent.He wore only a thin robe, his black hair pulled back in a simple plait, but he was not shivering.It looked as if he had shoved his feet into his boots and simply walked over.There was some inexpressible distress about him, that Maitimo did not understand, and he did not think Makalaurë did either, because his motions were quick and fluttering, like an insect deprived of the ability to fly, but his dark eyes seemed darker than ever and too large for his face.They were a little dazed.

“Nelyo.”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Maitimo told him, his voice flat.

“So you are still angry?”Makalaurë nodded jerkily.“They’ll be safe, you know,” he offered timidly.

“What did I just say?” This time his voice cracked like a whip.

“Yes.Yes, I’m sorry.”He still seemed—dazed.Why wasn’t he cold?He reached for the top of his robe and pulled it a little looser, as if it were a midsummer day and not the middle of a long, chill, winter night.“I’ll leave you, then.”

There was something wrong.The conviction dropped into Maitimo’s chest like a stone.He didn’t have time for this.He didn’t want to have to handle another emergency, another petty problem.Why couldn’t Makalaurë just go away and let him grieve in peace?

But that was just what he was doing, stepping towards the entrance again.All Maitimo had to do was let him go.

“Káno!”

Makalaurë jerked, turning at the sound of his voice.“Yes?”

“Is something wrong?You look feverish.”

His brother’s eyes flickered, and he ran one long-fingered hand down his own chest, where it paused and came to rest on the inside of his upper thigh, fingers tapping urgently.“I feel—” He blinked and laughed.“Concern, brother dearest?I know you blame me most of all.Stop playing the perfect eldest for once.”

“ _Brat_.Just because I am _furious_ doesn’t mean—” he paused.Makalaurë was trying to distract him.Clumsily. _Too_ clumsily.He looked at the flush rising on his brother’s cheeks and the sweat collecting along his brow, and in a flash he understood.“Makalaurë, you _fool_.”He could _smell_ it now, and it was only a little shocking to him that his own brother could pull the reaction out of him that it did.

“What?” Makalaurë’s face was a picture of blank incomprehension.And it occurred to Maitimo that he, himself, had only—once—and Makalaurë was _younger_ than he was, which meant—he laughed harshly, putting his face in his hands.“Truly, the gods jest,” he murmured.“Stars above, little brother.”He looked up.“It’s your time.”

“My…?” The dark, dazed eyes blinked, and Maitimo watched the horror dawning on his younger brother’s face.“Oh, no,” Makalaurë whispered.“Oh, _no_.No.”

“All right.”Another emergency it was to be, then.Maitimo got abruptly to his feet and crossed to Makalaurë’s side, taking his wrist.“We’ll find you someone.Just trust me?”

It occurred to him then, too late, that he should not have touched him. 

* * *

Makalaurë’s skin felt too tight, tingling and overwarm.The touch of Maitimo’s hand on his wrist was almost painful, and it focused all his attention there and then onto his brother.Before he could even think, his body responded, surging against Maitimo, rutting desperately against him.His brother’s large hands fell onto his waist, and then, somehow, they were kissing, messy and desperate, full of teeth and tongues and saliva.The roughness of the linen robe scraped painfully at his belly and even more painfully at his cock, and he took his hands out of tangling in Maitimo’s soft waves of hair to pluck helplessly at the robe.“Please, it hurts.Nelyo, I need—”

No, no—what was he doing? _It’s your time._ That was what Maitimo had said.And he’d known, understood.How could it be, _now_ , here?He needed to pull back.Not push this upon the brother who had already given up everything for their family.But Maitimo’s lips were on his throat, and his _teeth_ were scraping hard along it, and if Maitimo stopped touching him, he would _die_ , he knew he would—

“Wait,” he said weakly, despite that, despite the crawling desperation pushing him onward, and Maitimo stilled against him.“I will—I would not ask you to—”

“There is a howling snowstorm outside,” Maitimo said grimly.“I can feel where it has melted on your skin.And—and I do not know if I can—” He shut his eyes and inhaled tremulously.“We do not know how much time there is to take care of this, do we?”

Miserably, Makalaurë shook his head.“I don’t know when it started.”

“Will it hurt you, Káno, if I do this?” Maitimo asked.His cock was hard against Makalaurë’s inner thigh.He had been so angry, and now he was being so damn _gentle_ , and Makalaurë did not think he could stand it.

“Yes,” he whispered and caught at Maitimo’s arm when he went to pull back.“And I want you to.”

“Manwë’s balls, you _brat_ ,” growled Maitimo, turning his arm over and capturing Makalaurë’s wrist, hard enough that he gasped and groaned.“Very well.”

He pulled Makalaurë close and bit his ear, and Makalaurë was squealing and groaning because he had _never_ felt anything like this, the way every touch was excruciating and brought him closer to a peak he had never even imagined before.Maitimo held him still and the teeth were back on his throat, and Makalaurë cursed and gasped and rutted against him again until his world was whiting out, and he was trembling against his older brother, his own seed sticky against the inside of his robe—and he was still hard.

“Oh, it’s not going to be that easy,” Maitimo told him.“Come along, little brother, if we are doing this, then we are doing this.”There was just enough uncertainty in his tone that Makalaurë recognized the question for what it was.

“Anything, I want it, I told you,” he babbled recklessly.“For what I have taken from you, let me—”

Maitimo sighed.“It’s not so simple, as you’d know, if you were in your right mind.”

“A pipe dream, it appears, brother dear,” Makalaurë panted, and Maitimo picked him up bodily and carried him over to the bed at the side of the tent.Makalaurë found that little pained gasps were coming out of his mouth, tears starting at the corner of his eyes, because he was still thrusting his cock against his brother’s belly, and he was still wearing the damn _robe_ , and it hurt, but it was so _good_ —

But there was such a thing as too much of a good thing.“Get it off,” he begged hoarsely, and Maitimo yanked it from his shoulders with little ceremony and the sound of tearing cloth.Then he pulled off his own tunic and the clothes beneath and knelt between Makalaurë’s open legs.His own cock was hard, leaking clear fluid from the tip, and Makalaurë wanted it inside him and was not particularly choosy about the manner of it.He started to get up, reaching for it, and Maitimo pinned him down with one large hand in the center of his chest.Makalaurë stared down at it and then reached out and ran his hands along the rest and the back of the knuckles.

“You are a damn menace, Káno.”Maitimo’s voice was breathless and hoarse with lust.His other hand slipped down the back of Makalaurë’s thigh, and he pressed one large finger inside his hole.Makalaurë’s felt his eyes roll up inside his head and the breath stop in his lungs as he climaxed again with a desperate sob.“At least you seem—to be reacting normally,” panted Maitimo, and he realized his brother’s cock was pressed against his inner thigh, and Maitimo was rutting against him minutely as he fucked him with one—no, two, now—fingers.

“Get _inside_ me,” Makalaurë begged, fighting against the hand holding him down.There was cold slick trickling down around where his brother’s fingers were penetrating him.

“I am inside you,” Maitimo told him breathlessly, his eyes sparkling with some amusement that made Makalaurë’s own heart twist and leap wildly.“Or does this not count, brat?”

“It—doesn’t—damn you!”

“You said _anything_.”

“I didn’t mean it!I—I— _aaaaaahhhh_!” He should not have been able to spill again, but the crooking of those fingers did it, and he stared down in fascination and a little horror at the amount he’d managed to spill across his own belly.

“Always making a mess of things, aren’t you?”Maitimo slid his hand down, dragging glorious heat in its wake, and ran two fingers through it.“Clean it up, brat.”He offered two fingers, and Makalaurë whined and found that he was eagerly lapping up his own come.

“ _Please_ ,” he managed around the fingers in his mouth.“Please, Nelyo, _please_ , it hurts, I need it, _please_ —”He struggled and strained upwards and felt his brother shift against his thigh. 

“All right.”Maitimo was panting heavily.“Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to leave you hanging forever.”He shifted again, and Makalaurë hooked his legs around his brother’s waist as he felt his brother’s cock pressing at his hole.A moment later, it slipped inside, and he tipped his head back and cursed and cried.

Maitimo grunted, holding still for a moment, and then he reached down and brushed Makalaurë’s hair out of his eyes, an oddly tender gesture.Makalaurë whined and hitched his hips, fucking himself on Maitimo’s cock.It filled him up, making the prickling heat on his skin claw its way up into his belly.

“Impatient,” Maitimo chided him, but then he slipped his arms beneath Makalaurë’s back and lifted him up so that he was sitting in his brother’s lap, and Makalaurë realized that this was a _truly_ brilliant idea, because it meant he could press himself against Maitimo’s naked chest, slick with sweat, and ride him, while Maitimo fucked up into him, every thrust sending more and more bright hot pain through him, then pleasure, then pain again, until every touch was agonizing beyond what it had been even moments before—

“ _Nelyo_!”

Everything was falling away.There was nothing but the creak of the bed beneath them and Maitimo’s mouth on his, Maitimo’s big hands holding him safe, Maitimo’s cock inside him, his cock trapped against Maitimo’s belly.There was nothing left to worry about or feel guilty about, because there wasn’t so much a _Makalaurë_ anymore as a little melting puddle of need being fucked into oblivion by his brother’s powerful thrusts.

Maitimo was making noises, delicious, soft, needy ones, and then his fingers dug hard into Makalaurë’s shoulder-blades, and he cried out.Makalaurë felt Maitimo’s cock pulse inside him, felt his brother’s seed trickle out along his thigh, and he was _lost_ , all the heat driving him onward curling up in his chest and exploding outward in pure white pleasure.

When he remembered that existing was a thing you could do, he was on his side on the bed, with Maitimo’s arm secure and tight across his chest, and Maitimo’s cock softening inside him.He was softening as well, to his relief.

“Is…is that it?” he whispered, looking back exhaustedly at Maitimo, who was red-faced and sweaty and looked just as tired as he felt. 

Maitimo bit his lip and shook his head.“Possibly,” he admitted.“But it—is unlikely.It’s usually several sessions over a few days, I’m afraid.”

Makalaurë laughed, burying his face in the pillow and realizing there were tears mixed up in it.He was wrung out in every way possible and could not imagine doing something like this again, much less several times.“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.He rubbed the tears from his eyes and looked back.“There should be time to find someone else, at least?Before the next.”Something ached in his chest when he said that, but he said it anyway.

A sigh.“I am not going to stop taking care of you now,” Maitimo told him gently.“I may be angry, but—” he looked off into the middle distance, and Makalaurë was _certain_ he was watching a vision of black hair with flashing gold ribbons.The tenderness of Maitimo’s smile was not for him, but he greedily tucked away his next words all the same, “thou art still my little brother,” Maitimo finished, and dropped a careful kiss on his ear.“Now get some sleep before I have to smother thee with a pillow.”

“Yes, Nelyo,” Makalaurë murmured, sighing.Then, swallowing and not knowing where the words came from, “I won’t go against your orders again.You can rely upon me.I swear it.”

“I believe you.” 

Too late to mend what had been broken, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try.

Mere days later, when Celegorm demanded to know why they weren’t sending someone to rescue Maedhros, Maglor remembered his promise and turned away.


End file.
